06/01/03

not referring to a sexual orgy. sorry if that disappoints. for me, an orgy usually pertains to food. i've had so many 'last' orgies that it really seems incredibly ridiculous to ever think there will ever be a last one until the day i die.. and yet i somehow keep hoping. i've tried stopping in the middle of an orgy, i've thrown food away, i've tried stopping bulimia without an orgy first.. but my best chance always seems to be to have a kind of celebration, a ritual of sorts: and i can feel strong, in control. i have what i want, i give in to excess, and while i experience this pleasure, this feeling of release, i start to focus mentally, i try to call on whatever motivation might still be lurking somewhere hidden inside. at times, i've written out my intentions in my own blood, or written them out in ink, and added blood later. set on fire in order to 'send'. out there, somewhere. probably just to myself. more rituals.. i choose music, light candles, etc.. focus my mental energy, try to concentrate on what it is that i really want. when i celebrate, ritualize, focus, i seem to have the best results. tonight, i am 'sending' this out in a new way.

when i binge, i need a combination of sweet and non-sweet things, and i alternate them, so that my tastebuds aren't immediately deadened. i prolong the pleasure as long as i can. today (actually yesterday now), i had jelly beans, chocolate, fresh croissants with swiss cheese (heated together a little), homemade chocolate chip cookies (warm from the oven), real coffee, caramel slices, and cheese and crackers (more swiss cheese, some cheddar and some cream cheese) with little odds and ends like pieces of cut-up sundried tomato, two kinds of olives, spicy pickles, etc. i often like things like pizza, chips thrown in the deep fryer, cheeseburgers, root beer (they call it sarsaparilla here in australia), ice cream, donuts, cake, cookies, etc for binges.

in recent years, most of the time i have not been troubled all that much with bulimia, and i have even gone for as long as a year at a time without bingeing and purging. however, i still crave and eat foods that i'd prefer not to eat. my weight remains stabilized at a weight that is actually considered medically 'ideal' for my height, without vomiting. the problem is that my weight is not what *i* consider ideal. i feel this constant dissatisfaction. i feel that i am not really 'me'. so i try to change my body. and when i try very hard, there's often a backlash, and bulimia resurfaces. (bulimia also resurfaces during especially stressful times, but usually disappears again when the stress eases.) i want to know what it's like to achieve what *i* consider to be my ideal weight and level of fitness. i want to know what it's like to dance in that state.

eating seems to be where i find the most pleasure in life. the most uncomplicated kind of pleasure, and the most easily obtainable, although shopping for food becomes difficult, shameful, painful when bulimia is very active (i feel so hideous, huge, so embarrassed of myself, and i also feel the need to try and buy exactly what i want, without compensating for what i think others think of me, and that can be difficult), and after a while vomiting itself becomes an absolute horror (for one, it becomes more and more difficult technically), but it is necessary, because the hours of digesting would be far worse, physically, pychologically, etc. most people would spontaneously vomit if they tried to eat the quantities i do. somehow, my body holds it in, and i just suffer without release if i don't force myself to vomit. eating is a way of just letting go, of walking away from all of the things i should do to make myself less repulsive. it's a way of dealing with all of the stressful things i feel. it's a way of coping with lack of meaning and purpose to my life (there is no way i can see myself acquiring those things.) i can decide to myself that i was meant to be a somewhat solitary creature, and that occasionally there are people i can offer small things to, that sometimes i can dance and feel intensely alive, and that maybe i can put images on my website that sometimes people like to look at, and sometimes that feels ok to me, but underneath things, there's a sense of insecurity, knowing that i can't support myself, that i'm a parasite and that everyone will eventually tire of me, and i just feel so useless. i don't know how to get through the days. i am free to do as i please, but there isn't much that i actually want to do. each day is an endurance contest.

being on holiday recently turned out to be incredibly stressful. i'm glad i went, for many reasons, and i can still hold onto positive moments, but i had been hoping for a feeling of release and pleasure, something that could be a reward for what i'd done in previous months. and i found that in order to cope with the holiday, it took still greater amounts of effort. so that i needed a holiday to cope with the holiday. all that work, i could see it disappearing so easily. i had only come so far, and there was still so much farther to go, and i lost control.. and unless this time was different from all the other times, i knew i would just spiral further and further into self-destructiveness, like all the other times, until things leveled out again, going through a kind of symbolic death and grieving period and eventual rebirth.. but that might take a very long time.. it might take a year, or more, and then longer still to try to focus on my goal again. i don't want to be trapped in this hell for that long. i've usually been afraid to admit i want anything, because it seems that if i do, then there's no way i'm allowed to ever have it. there is something i want. i need to try for it. it's not even a huge thing, but i want it. and so, again i've tried to have the orgy to end all orgies. maybe if i put it here in my diary it will make it different this time. and if somehow i'm not able to do it, to focus intensely enough, perhaps i can document my despair. there is a part of me that sees the value in tracing the pattern.. but i really don't want to go through that hell again. i don't. please, please, please. no more. maybe i can use my diary as a place to dump all the ugly, messy thoughts, when i feel stressed i can write about it. maybe it can be something to do, something that will fill some of the hours.. although, i often find that trying to express things feels stressful to me. maybe this, tonight, is enough, and it represents enough motivation to last for some time. we'll see.

and so with this i begin again. i will try to find the strength to handle all of the little stresses, all of the insecurities, and the huge gaping meaninglessness, and focus on the fact that there is something i badly

WANT .